I bought a five-gallon can of gasoline at the Shell station on Highway 11 Paid cash, didn't say a word to the clerk behind the glass Drove up my uncle's gravel driveway with my headlights turned clean off His porch light was burning yellow, bug zap snapping in the heat He was asleep inside on that same brown leather couch TV still flickering blue through the blinds Showing some old ballgame nobody’s watching This is an American crime Just a girl in a hand-me-down denim setting fire to the dark No more praying to a Jesus who doesn't show up No more begging the river to wash me clean If I have to burn, I’m taking the whole block with me I’m taking his name, I’m taking his house, I’m taking every lie he told I poured it right across the front porch steps Poured it over the welcome mat, over the windshield of his truck Struck the match on the box and dropped it in Watched the orange jump twenty feet in the air And for the first time in three years, I wasn't cold I stood on the edge of the cornfield and watched it burn to the ground LOOK AT ME NOW LOOK AT ME NOW GOD ISN'T HERE BUT I AM Red taillights disappearing down the county road Small-town headline on the front page on Monday They’ll call me crazy, they’ll call me evil They’ll never ask what my uncle did to earn it The smoke stays in my hair for three days And I don't wash it out I don't wash a single fucking thing
